


You shatter somebody like me

by cassanabaratheon



Category: Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:46:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassanabaratheon/pseuds/cassanabaratheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was incomprehensible, the wanting that uncurled within him, white hot and terrible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You shatter somebody like me

He sat outside of Odin’s hall in the dark listening to the soft tune of the flute from inside. He had managed to leave undetected, Thor’s watchful gaze had been distracted by the golden-haired Sif sitting in his lap. The voices from those inside (very few as the feast was over) were not as loud or rowdy as they had been before. Now was the time for quieter words, for slumber or finding a lover. The former held no appeal whilst the latter… He shook his head and stretched out his legs. He would not think of her.

Even though he felt drowsy from the mead, he was sharp enough to hear light footfalls and he turned his head to see a figure leave the hall. She paused for a moment when she saw him watching her.

She was a summer’s breath away from the time when she would take her first bite of the golden apples and her innocence beckoned him. Her hair was loose and he knew it was the colour of the harvest wheat. Flowers were wound into the few braids around the crown of her head and a few petals were caught in the ends of her hair. What he did not know was how it would feel to have it over his hands, across his face and spread out on his bed. He wondered about those flowers that would be pulled out and crushed underneath them, between them, and come the morning, brushed off as nothing. Or maybe he would keep one for the memory.

He swallowed and though her face was half-cast in shadow, he could not detect worry but mild curiosity as they watched one another. Her gaze was as bold as his and she did not blush as he had expected her to. He did not speak and neither did she and then, with a little tilt of her head to the right, she headed back to Vingólf.

She must have been aware that his eyes had not left her and perhaps this was why she glanced back and gave a sweet smile. It was incomprehensible, the wanting that uncurled within him, white hot and terrible. His heart pounded and blood roared in his ears, all over the maiden with the daring eyes that left him trembling in the dark. 


End file.
